𝙸'𝚖 𝚂𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍.

~19~

I'm cold and alone. Without momma to hold me safely in their darkness. Without anybody.

Alone.

I remember when this one boy used to hold my hand when I would wake up from a nightmare. His hand was warm—-a bit rough but warm all the same. Yet, there was this other hand I remember holding. Not hand—-hands.

One hand was warm, like a fireplace. But the other one was cold, like ice. I think I remember confusing them. Forgetting which one to hold for warmth and which one to hold for cold. I know, weird right?

Who would want to hold the cold side?

My eyes are still trying to adjust to the lighting, the white light looking back down at me as if it were a hawk. Everything feels numb. As if I were decapitated and the only reaction I got was from the tip of my hair down to my chin.

After that, I felt nothing.

Why couldn't I feel anything?
Why did momma leave?
Why am I being held hostage against the white light?
Why don't I remember anything?
Why?
Why?!

I try moving the rest of my body. Because for Pete's sake I still have a body, right? I remember running around the sun. Or floating with my legs dangled from the sky as if the platform I was on was invisible. I even remember how my hands desperately tried grabbing theirs as everything went blank and the lullaby that was once on repeat left my ears so carelessly I swore it didn't care.

I remember so much...but so little.

I start to scream, my mouth opening as wide as I can as I put as much pressure to emit some kind of sound. But soon, I realized the only thing I was letting out was the unnecessary carbon dioxide.

Damn it why the hell can't I do anything? What am I, weak?!

Soon, I put as much effort as I can, my eyes squeezing shut as I try concentrating on the rest of my body. My arms, my hands, my fingers, my legs, anything. I want the numbness to leave, I want to feel.

I want to feel.

Suddenly, just as I was about to give up, I feel. I feel my hands—-or fingers, slowly moving with stiffness as I hold back groans of pain. Gosh, it hurts. It hurts so bad.

I then realize that it was in fact my fingers I was moving. My index finger slowly moves as the bones and joints inside my flesh ache at every movement.

Then, out of nowhere I hear shuffling. At first, I think that's me, which makes me gasp though I make no noise. But it wasn't me.

It was a boy.

He was sitting in a chair, eyebags completely visible with clothes that looked old. Though, his eyes were wide. Eyes that look a bit sad and a bit shocked I start to wonder if it's because of me.

"You..."

He looks like he's about to cry.

"You selfish bastard."

And like lightning, he grabs me. He grabs me so tightly I feel the bit of air gravity hasn't taken away from me leaving me. I feel his fist clutching on my clothes, his breath raggedy and this sudden feeling of abandonment washing over me—-tumbling my soul to the point all I can do is stare at the wall in front of us both.

"I-"

He can't finish his own sentence as his words clog up in his own choked up sobs. I don't know what is happening. I dont know why he's crying. Why is he crying? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt him?

Was I selfish without noticing?

His tears make my shoulder feel damp. And for once I thank this strange man for making the dumbness disappear with his own tears.